Huddy Halloween
by RochelleRene
Summary: Okay, friends – You asked for it.  A lot of people wanted a Halloween Huddy fic.  It's crazy and campy, but fun.  So if you take it with a grain of salt  and munch some candy corn  hopefully it'll be entertaining.  Warning: Smutty final chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, friends – You asked for it. A lot of people wanted a Halloween Huddy fic. It's crazy and campy, but fun. So if you take it with a grain of salt (and munch some candy corn) hopefully it'll be entertaining. Warning: Smutty final chapter. **** Props to my husband for helping me think up this crazy story and to Anon for being on hand for fact- checking! Oh, and, I don't own these characters!**

CHAPTER 1

"Well, howdy there, stick-in-the-mud!" House exclaimed as Cuddy swept into the team room. He looked up at her under his cowboy hat, boots propped on the table. Cuddy rolled her eyes at him. "We need to talk," she said brusquely, gesturing for him to follow her into his office.

"Hmmm…" he debated, turning to the team. "Differential: Serious tone of voice, no nonsense strut, big luscious ass… Trick, or treat would you say?" he asked the team.

"House!" Cuddy hissed.

"Hang tight, cowpokes," he told the team, limping toward his office.

"You're the only cowboy I've ever seen with a cane," Taub called after him.

"You're the only bald guy I know who gets laid," House replied, not turning around.

House entered the office and closed the door. Cuddy was standing at House's desk. "You just wanted another look at my chaps," he told her. "I'm not keeping it on, missy. You wouldn't wear yours, so you don't get to reap the sexual benefits of my great idea."

"House, listen to me," Cuddy said, snapping him out of his snark-fest. "We have a major situation." House looked at her and bit his tongue, seeing she was stressed. "The county prison is transferring an inmate here. They don't know what's wrong with him. He went into what appeared to be anaphylactic shock during his last meal."

"Last meal?" House asked. "As in death row last meal?" he asked. Cuddy nodded soberly. "Cool," House commented. "What's he in for?"

"He's a sociopath," Cuddy explained. "Serial killings across the state. Slit the throats of whole families. It's crazy," she shivered. "They're sending armed guards to follow him everywhere, but he's a real Hannibal Lecter-type, so we have to be very careful about this."

"So I'm supposed to figure out what's wrong with him, so they can kill him," House summarized. Cuddy nodded. "Are you messing with me?" She shook her head. "Well, oaky-dokey, little lady," he said, taking the copied files. "Don't you worry your perty little head about it." He began paging through one of the files.

"They thought his food was tainted with peanuts because he has a peanut allergy," Cuddy explained, "but when they examined him, it wasn't anaphylaxis. There was no swelling or rash. It's something else." House nodded, absorbed in the file, and turned to go explain to the team.

"House," Cuddy said, grabbing his arm and turning him back to face her, "Please… Promise me you'll be careful. Take this seriously. This man is a killer."

"I take everything seriously," he told her, winking. He kissed her lightly on the lips and she reached up and moved the brim of his hat up a little. "Admit it, you like it don't you?" He grinned mischievously at her. She half-smiled back, refusing to admit that he looked crazy sexy. "I'm telling you Cuddy, you made a big mistake not being my cowgirl today."

"House, not only is it unprofessional for the Dean of Medicine to dress in a costume, the costume you bought is completely inappropriate!" she exclaimed.

"The purpose of Halloween is for women to dress slutty, Cuddy. I'm just getting in the spirit," he explained. She shook her head at him. "Don't get mad at me when I toilet paper your house," he warned. She left and as she was walking past the team room she saw House walk back in and shoot Chase square in the forehead with a suction cup dart from his gun. She laughed to herself and it lifted some of her tension about this patient, but only some.

"Alright, little doggies," House said, passing out the files. "We got a case. Patient is being transferred from another facility. He starting vomiting uncontrollably after his dinner two days ago and his hair is now falling out in clumps. That's all we know until we get more tests."

"Did the other hospital run an MRI?" Taub asked.

"No," House said.

"Got results for viral or bacterial strains?" Foreman probed.

"Nope," House answered.

"What kind of hospital is this?" Chase asked. "What have they been doing?"

"Preventing riots," House responded. "He's coming from the county prison."

"He's a criminal?" Foreman asked.

"Pot calling the kettle," House retorted, rolling his eyes.

"What'd he do?" Taub asked.

"Does it matter?" House asked.

"You think everything matters," Taub reminded.

"True," House admitted. "What are the occupational hazards of being a serial killer?" he asked, drumming his fingers on the table. The team stared at him.

"You're shitting us," Chase accused. "This is a Halloween prank."

"'Fraid not, cowpoke," House answered, back to his cowboy drawl. "What's a matter? Ya yellow?" They stared at him. "Guess he's a real psycho too," House snorted, laughing. "I say send Foreman in first. The black guy never survives anyway."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The team entered the room as a group. Two armed guards flanked the bed, but the patient/prisoner couldn't have been more than 150 pounds soaking wet. He was pasty and skinny and had beady eyes and crooked teeth. He was restrained to the bed at his feet, but his arms were free because he kept vomiting and needed to be able to bend over a bucket.

He looked up at them when they entered, smiling a little with vomit still clinging to his mouth. "Safety in numbers. I get it," he said in a creepy squeaky voice. They paused. Then Foreman took charge.

"Mr. Rains, I'm Doctor Foreman," Foreman said. "We just have a lot of different things to do as fast as possible to figure out what's wrong with you," he explained. "Doctors Chase and Taub will be taking some blood and refilling your IV. I need to take your family medical history."

"I don't have any family," the patient replied.

"Well, you have or had parents at least," Foreman responded, "And knowing about their health could prove informative."

"I'm an orphan, Dr. Foreman," he informed him calmly. "I know nothing about them, I'm afraid." He was still smiling weirdly at him. But he cooperated as Chase a Taub quickly set about checking vital signs, changing his IV, and generally looking him over.

"New symptom," Chase said, holding up the bag from his catheter. It was tinged with blood.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"I need more time, which means he needs a kidney," House told Cuddy, walking into her office and flopping into a chair. She looked up from her desk.

"That's not gonna happen," she replied. "A kidney for a man on death row?"

"Couldn't we frame it like he's just renting it?" he suggested. "We could get it back as soon as he's fried," House joked.

"House, it'll never happen," she told him. "Plus, the kidney would be damaged no matter how they execute him."

"I know, woman," he agreed. "Just giving you an update. He still has one functioning, so if we can figure out what it is in the next few hours, it might not matter. And if that fails, I guess they'll just give him dialysis until it's time. Ironic."

Cuddy's phone rang. "Yes?" she said into the receiver. She looked at House and her eyes got wide. She stood up. "I understand. I'll take care of it. Just stay where you are," she said hurriedly into the receiver. She hung up and starting shaking. House had never seen her like this. He stood up and looked at her expectantly. She immediately dialed the phone. "The hospital is in lockdown. This is a code orange. I need the head of security in my office 5 minutes ago," she hissed.

"Cuddy?" House asked, taking off his hat and throwing it on the chair.

"House," she said her eyes still wide, the pupils dilated. "He's gone."

"Rains?" he asked. She nodded, almost in a trance. "Cuddy, what the fuck?" he said. They heard the PA system go off and a voice calmly announced the code orange. Though it wouldn't be obvious to patients, Cuddy knew the staff would all know immediately what would happen. She feared mass panic, on top of the obvious.

"A nurse just went in and saw his two guards stabbed in the throats, House. He's gone!" Cuddy cried out, getting a little hysterical.

There was a loud knock on Cuddy's door and they both jumped. It was the head of security. Cuddy explained the situation and he communicated procedures for a complete lockdown over the radio. Everyone needed to stay where they were while security spread across the building and manned the entrances. State and county police were dispatched and scheduled to arrive in minutes. "You both need to stay here until you hear from me," he told them, handing Cuddy a radio and his card. She nodded and he left.

They were silent at first, trying to wrap their minds around what had just transpired. "He's sick, Cuddy. I mean, he's really sick. He can't get around well as it is, and with every hour he's going to deteriorate."

"But, House, what's his plan? He knows he's sick, why would he try to escape?" she asked.

"He's on death row, Cuddy. That's a sure thing. At least this way he probably figures he's got a fighting chance…" Then House got that look on his face – his epiphany look. "Unless, this was his plan the whole time! He got himself sick to try to escape."

Cuddy stared at him. "House, he'd only do that if he knew he'd get better, don't you think? He knows what he's doing."

"Maybe," House agreed, "But it was a prison. He couldn't have been measuring out doses of anything – It must have been imprecise, whatever it is. He doesn't know for sure he'll get better. But _I_ have to figure out what it is. I need the lab and MRI results."

"House you can't leave the office!" she cried. "Please don't leave me," she added, more quietly.

He looked at her, "Cuddy," he said, "I'd never leave you… You're coming with me." She looked terrified. "I'm gonna call the team and see where they are." He paused a moment. "I don't want to scare you more, Cuddy, but you should call and get Rachel out of your house… Who knows what this guy knows." Cuddy's face blanched and she fumbled with her phone as he dialed Foreman. When they each hung up, House explained that Taub and Foreman were in the team room. He wanted to get up there or get them down to Cuddy's office. "Which do you think is safer?" House asked her.

"Your office has two exits," she said, "so we couldn't get cornered."

"But you've been in yours, so we know Rains hasn't," House countered.

Simultaneously they both asked, "Where's Wilson?" House dialed his number.

"Wilson?" House was saying into the phone. "Is that you? Where are you?... Jesus, Wilson, stop whispering. He isn't in your fucking office… Okay, stay there. We're coming… Just shut up before _I_ kill you," he instructed. He hung up and turned to Cuddy. "So, Wilson's hiding under his desk. He's not moving. We need to go up." Cuddy nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

"You need to call that security guard and tell him we're moving. Don't use the radio – It'll blast all over the hospital."

Cuddy called the number the guard had given her and told him she and House were moving upstairs. He protested. "Look, the man is sick, possibly dying. We need to figure out which," she explained. "There's one person here who can do that and he needs his team. We're going," she said sternly and hung up. They opened the door to Cuddy's office and everyone was silent. Nurses were in rooms watching over patients or sitting behind the station counter. Cops were everywhere by now.

Suddenly they heard over Cuddy's radio, and all the other radios in the vicinity, "Doctors Cuddy and House are changing locations. They are moving to the 4th floor. Repeat, Cuddy and House moving to the 4th floor."

House looked at Cuddy and rolled his eyes. "Stealthy," he muttered. "Let's take the stairs." The staff eyed them as they crossed through the clinic and lobby and started climbing the stairs. House led the way, holding Cuddy's hand, and they both looked everywhere at once, looking for anything unusual amongst _everything_ that was unusual. They climbed the main open flight of stairs, then had to go into the closed stairwell. Every step echoed off the walls of the empty stairwell. Cuddy walked on her tiptoes to keep her stilettos from clicking so noisily. When they reached the 4th floor, House opened the heavy steel door as best he could and stuck his head out. He looked up and down both hallways, signaled to the cops, then pulled Cuddy through. They went immediately to the team room, where Foreman and Taub were waiting in wide-eyed silence with the blinds closed. They both jumped when House tapped on the glass. Taub crept to the glass and parted the blinds ever so slightly, only to see House making a crazy scary face at him. He startled, then sighed and unlocked the door. Cuddy and House slunk in quickly. "Where's Chase?" House asked. Foreman and Taub both shrugged.

"He was running labs," Taub told him. "We assume he's still down there, but when we called him there's no answer."

"Well, let's assume _he's_ a goner," House said. Cuddy gave him a nasty look. "I'm kidding!" House said. "Everyone's so stressed out around here! I gotta get Wilson," House said, going through his office to the balcony. He used his key to unlock Wilson's door and heard Wilson start hyperventilating under his desk. "Are you scared or are you having sex under there?" House asked.

"Jesus, House, you almost scared me to death!" Wilson whisper-yelled.

"You thought the killer stole me keys?" House asked.

"I'm not exactly thinking clearly right now!" Wilson responded.

"Well, start to," House ordered. "We have to figure out what this guy has and I need your help. Come on," he gestured toward the door with his head.

"I feel safer in here," Wilson protested. "Your office is all glass."

"Wilson, the blinds are closed, the doors are locked, and there are three other full-grown men in there with you. I know the last time you were in that situation you needed therapy, but it'll be different this time. Move your _ass_!" he said. Wilson stood up, but stayed still. "Do you want me to start calling, 'Hey, killer, killer, killer!' out your office door? Come on!" Wilson followed House across the balcony to his office and joined the others.

"Okay, doctors," House said. "This guy has poisoned himself on purpose. It was all part of his plan. Now we need to know with what so we know if he is going to get away with this or if he is dying in a hospital air duct somewhere." He got a marker and wrote on the white board: _vomiting, hair loss, kidney failure. _"What else do we know?" he asked Foreman and Taub.

"He's is respiratory distress," Foreman said. "The MRI shows fluid building up in his lungs." House added _pulmonary edema _to the list.

"He also was having trouble making a fist for a blood draw," Foreman said. "He complained that his hands hurt." House added _peripheral neuropathy_ to the list.

"He's creepy," Taub muttered.

"Hmmm… creepiness," House repeated. "By God, it's lupus!"

"I wasn't suggesting it was a symptom," Taub explained. I just was commenting. That guy really creeped me out."

"What's creepy, exactly, besides the whole killing several families thing?" House probed.

"I mean, he's a creep! He talks like a creep, he says creepy things –"Taub started explaining.

"Does he look creepy?" House asked.

"Yeah! He's losing hair everywhere – even his eyelashes. And his fingernails are all broken off. And he smells like garlic. Reminds me of vampires," Taub commented.

"Vampires are repelled by garlic," Cuddy said.

"That's why she's the Dean of Medicine," House bragged facetiously.

"Maybe it isn't poison," Wilson said, looking through the patient's chart.

"We could hear you a lot better if you stopped whispering came out of the corner," House scolded. Wilson ignored him.

"It says he's been a vegetarian for the last year. That combined with limited variety in prison food could lead to a deficiency," Wilson explained. Taub and Foreman started running through vitamins and minerals and comparing them to the symptoms, but none were matching. House was thinking.

"What kind of serial killer becomes a vegetarian?" he asked. "And during the last year of his life?"

"He ate fish," Cuddy offered. "His last meal request was three different kinds of fish. It was weird."

"Creepy," Taub said. House rolled his eyes.

"Which fish?" House asked. Cuddy looked over Taub's shoulder at the chart. "Tuna, salmon, and cod." It was silent for a moment.

"It isn't a deficiency," House said. "It's toxicity. He's overdosed on selenium," he explained. "Those fish are all packed with selenium. He's probably been doing it for months on other foods, and that last meal, with all that fish, pushed it over the edge."

"We can't confirm without testing his blood or urine," Taub pointed out.

"It all fits," House said. "Even the garlic you smelled is excess selenium in his breath."

"But we still don't know how far it has progressed," Cuddy pointed out.

"Right," House said. "That's why I need to talk to him." They all looked at him like he has lost his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"House, this is crazy," Cuddy warned. "The man is a brilliant lunatic."

"So you're probably attracted to him, huh?" House asked, limping back downstairs with Cuddy after notifying security. She gave him a disgusted look. "This is going to work, Cuddy. Trust me. He's hurting. Pain does funny things to people. By now, he probably can't breathe well. He's going to panic."

They had made it to the main lobby and offices, escorted by police, and House was going to the system to make a hospital-wide PA announcement. A cheerful _ding_ rang out over the speakers, notifying people to listen, not than it was necessary - you could hear a pin drop. "Hey there, psycho killer. This is your doctor," House said into the microphone. "I'll get right to the point. You're dying and I know what's killing you. I know you did it to yourself and you're hoping it'll wear off by itself, but you've overdosed. By now, you're finding it hard to breathe and your hands and feet are beginning to lock up. You're going to suffocate on your own fluids if you don't get help, so this escape plan is pretty much going awry." Cuddy stared at House and hoped beyond hope that this might work. "But I know desperation, and I know you aren't coming out to face certain death when there's the off chance of getting out of this. So I have a deal to make with you. I know strange diseases and I know how to fix you. You want to be fixed, and I want to know I solved this puzzle. We can do it on your terms. Provided you're as smart as they say you are, you'll have some clever way of working this out. Call me when you have a plan. I believe I'm listed as _Sonofabitch_ in Dr. Chase's cell phone." House paused. "This concludes this test of our escape convict alert system."

He looked at Cuddy. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now we wait," he said. They went into Cuddy's office and sat down. There was nothing more to do, but wait. Cops were still combing the premises, but coming up with nothing. Cuddy stared blankly ahead, not knowing which of the million possible scenarios to play out in her mind. House kept one hand on her trembling thigh and his other dug into his own screaming thigh muscle. He'd been tenser through all this than he realized.

His phone vibrated. His phone read "Chase." House picked it up. "Rains?" House said.

"So formal, Dr. House," his raspy voice responded. "I was rather fond of your little nickname – psycho killer. That has a certain panache to it," he said. House could hear that he was struggling to breathe.

"We can try to out-clever each other for a while longer," House said, "And I can listen to you die on the phone. Or you can tell me how you want to do this."

"How I want to do this," Rains responded, "Is that you are going to tell your adorable little doctor friend here what he needs to do to help me."

"That's not going to happen, Rains," House said.

"Pity," he responded, "Then you'll be cleaning up _two_ more bodies when you finally find me. One will be a bit bloodier, however."

"I tell Chase, he fixes you, and you kill him anyway. There's no motivation for me," House explained. "If you let Chase go, I'll give you a fighting chance of getting out of here," House explained.

Rains was silent for a few moments.

"What is involved, exactly?" Rains finally asked.

"A simple injection," House explained. "I'll prepare it and bring it to you. You let Chase go and I'll give you the syringe."

"Do you think I'm a fool, Dr. House?" Rains asked. "I am not going to inject myself with a mystery substance you present to me."

"The you're going to die," House explained matter-of-factly. Rains was silent again.

"If I agree to have you meet us, you bring whatever it is you need. You fill two syringes in front of me, and you inject yourself first. Once I see you are fine, we'll see what we can do about Dr. Chase here," Rains explained.

"Let me hear Chase," House said.

Suddenly he heard Chase's unmistakable Australian accent saying, "House, he'll kill me no matter what. Don't-" then he was stopped short.

"You need to come to the morgue, Dr. House," Rains instructed. "You'll follow the directions I just gave you. If I see another living soul with you, Chase can slide right into a fridge. Am I clear?"

"Give me fifteen minutes," House agreed. He hung up and turned to Cuddy. "I need two syringes, a bottle of saline, and a candy bar."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Cuddy held House's face and kissed him. She was crying and trying not to at the same time. "It's going to work," he reassured her. "I'm not leaving you." She nodded. He walked to the door of the supply room and looked back at her. She had her arms wrapped around herself and was wide-eyed, her lips sucked into her mouth. "I love you," he said.

"Shut the hell up!" Cuddy hissed at him. "Don't you dare say that. You said this will work so make it work." He nodded. He walked down the stairs and toward the morgue alone. Everyone he passed watched him, confused, alert, on edge.

He came to the morgue doors and knocked. He waited. The door opened slowly and he saw Chase's pale, stoic face. A hand rested at his throat holding a scalpel. Rains' face appeared as the door swung a little wider. He looked past House, then motioned with his head for him to come in, backing up with the blade still against Chase. "Lock it," he ordered. House could almost hear the liquid in his lungs. "Let's get to work, Doctor," Rains said icily.

House held out the bottle of saline for Rains to see. The label had been smeared a bit, but House assured him it was a chemical that would bind with the excess selenium and reverse his deterioration. "It's a simple vitamin and mineral cocktail," House explained. "I'll piss the excess out, and you will too, but along with all that selenium." Rains nodded.

House shook the bottle, took out two empty syringes, and filled them each to the same amount with the saline. He tapped the syringes and squirted a little out to ensure no air bubbles. Without a word, he took one of the syringes in his hand, pulled his pants down in the back and stabbed it into his ass, injecting himself. Then he took the bottle of saline and threw it against the floor, where it shattered and the liquid flowed across the floor. He held up the remaining full syringe. "You've got what I want, and I've got what you want," he pointed out. He stared at Rains and waited. Rains stared back.

After 5 minutes, House sat there, still conscious, breathing, and healthy. Rains finally spoke. "You're not a killer, Dr. House. You're a healer. If this doesn't work, my death - and his - are on your hands," he cautioned.

"I'm a detective, Rains. If this doesn't work, it will haunt me," House assured him. Rains met his stare.

"How fast will it work?" he asked.

"You'll start feeling it immediately, and you'll be breathing normally within the hour," House told him.

"If you're wrong," he nodded his head at Chase. "You understand?"

"You think I give a shit about this guy?" House joked. He looked right at Chase and said, "I wanna get home and rub strawberry body butter on my girlfriend." Chase met his eyes and House saw his pupils dilate. He understood. House looked at Rains and shrugged. "Makes her kinkier," he explained.

"Give Chase the syringe," Rains ordered. House reached out and Chase met his hand and took it. With the scalpel still at his throat, he turned slightly, pulled at Rains pants and stabbed the syringe into his ass, pushing down on the plunger. Then he turned and faced House. They waited and House saw Rains' hand lower a hair. He was relaxing a little, and his hands were probably throbbing by now. Chase noticed it too and waited.

Suddenly, Rains' body lurched. At exactly that moment, Chase brought his own arms up and gave Rains' arm one huge shove and ran. Rains was already on the floor, clutching at his throat, trying to breath. House handed Chase the epi-pen he had in his back pocket, but gestured for him to wait. He called Cuddy, who answered before it even rang, and said, "Send them. Fast." He hung up, opened the door, and looked down at Rains. "What you are experiencing, psycho killer, in anaphylaxis. Your airways are closing and you're going to die if we don't give you a dose of epinephrine. We'll promptly do that when the police arrive," he said, just as a dozen cops stormed in, "And we'll also treat your selenium poisoning. Then we'll say our goodbyes and you can go back to prison," he concluded. The cops had each limb and were restraining him. Chase injected him with the epinephrine and backed quickly away. They saw his allergic reaction receding and the cops were tying him down to a gurney that more cops had brought in. House and Chase were led away and up the stairs.

Chase looked at House as they walked, breathing heavily with relief and postponed panic. "Who the fuck is allergic to saline?" Chase asked.

"No one," House replied, "But he's allergic to the peanuts I rolled around in that bottle of saline," he explained.

Chase let out a shaky sigh and stopped suddenly on the landing, his legs growing weak from nerves, and leaned against the wall of the stairwell. "Jesus Christ, House. Thank you," he said.

"Maybe you can change my name in your cell phone now," House said, continuing to walk up the stairs. "I like Billy the Kid."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Cuddy and House stayed at the hospital until they had stabilized Rains and sent him back to the prison with supplies and clear directions about treating the selenium poisoning, which at this point would clear itself up if they restricted certain foods from his diet. No one was sure about when his execution date would be now, and whether, ironically, it would come before or after he would stand trial for these crimes. They drove home around five in the morning. Rachel was in a hotel with Cuddy's mother, who had been called much earlier to be reassured. They walked into the empty house and it all seemed so surreal – an open magazine on the couch, a half a cup of coffee on the kitchen counter – all signs of the normal day that had begun before this insanity. They had talked business and logistics at the hospital, but walking to the car and driving home, they hadn't said a word. They just clutched hands.

They went into the bedroom and House sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his thigh. "Forgot my hat," he mumbled. Cuddy stared at him and started laughing. He grinned up at her.

"You are the craziest man I know," she said.

"Cuddy, we just interacted with a sociopathic serial killer. I surely can't be the craziest man you know," he said.

"I'm sure that guy isn't worrying about a piece of his Halloween costume right now!" she said. House smiled at her. She sat down next to him and flopped backwards on the bed, pulling him back too. She rolled on her side and rubbed his thigh for him. "I don't know what to think right now. I feel so drained," she said.

House sighed and closed his eyes, feeling her hand sooth his sore leg. "I feel emotionally scarred because you told me to shut the hell up when I proclaimed my love for you," he murmured, eyes closed and a half-smirk on his face.

"I was afraid you might be killed!" she protested.

"And you wanted you last words to me to be 'Shut the hell up'?" he kidded. Cuddy was silent. House opened his eyes and saw tears rolling down her face. "Oh, Cuddy, I'm teasing you!" he said, sitting up and pulling her into a hug. Cuddy buried her face in his shoulder and breathed deeply. "I _knew_ it would work, Cuddy. I knew it would be fine."

"I sat there in my office and just waited, imagining horrible things happen to you," she said, explaining her current meltdown. "I felt like it took hours. I can't imagine…" she trailed off.

He took her face in her hands and kissed her wet cheeks. "I know. I can't either." Cuddy nodded and took a deep breath. She kissed him. "Cuddy, don't imagine it. Don't even think of any of it…" He wracked his brain for a way to ease her mind. "Imagine we're just two lonely cowpokes, meeting on the open range…" He started chuckling, causing her to smile. "And I'm like, 'Hey there, cowgirl, that's a weird tweed suit you're wearing in the wild west,'" he continued. Cuddy started laughing again.

"I don't respect cowboys with no hats," she explained. House pulled back.

"I'll go get the hat-" he insisted, smiling and mocking getting up to go, relieved she was okay. Cuddy pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Let's just imagine I took it off already and we'll take it from there," she said, laughing, still sniffing a little, just emotionally raw. House kissed her and slid her coat off her shoulders. He slowly ran his tongue along her bottom lip. She sighed, trying to relax and turn off her brain. She started unbuttoning his shirt. Something in the emotional process changed, and all the fear and worry and relief channeled itself into their desire for each other. They began kissing madly, mouths crashing crazily into each other lips, necks, chins.

"I'm sorry I couldn't dress as a cowgirl," she murmured into his mouth, tearing his shirt off of him.

He yanked her shirt over her head and started fumbling with her skirt's zipper. "It's fine," he said between fast breaths against her neck. "It's not a Halloween-only outfit. You can make it up to me," he smiled, pushing her back onto the bed and shoving her skirt down her legs. Cuddy was already pawing at his belt and zipper and he was reaching under her back to unhook her bra. He flung it off of her and immediately began kissing her breasts, running his tongue over her nipples, sliding a hand into her panties. Cuddy moaned as his fingers ran along her heat. House reached down and helped her start sliding his jeans off of his legs. Cuddy pushed madly at his pants with her legs.

"Boots, Cuddy," he explained, trying to catch his breath. He sat up and yanked two boots off in about three seconds, then was on top of her again. He slid her panties down her legs, kissing her stomach, her thighs, her calves.

"House," Cuddy moaned, her hands in his hair. "Come here." Her hands slid down to his back as her worked his way back up her body. "After this day, I'm out of patience," she explained, gasping and pulling his boxers down. House held her face and kissed her deeply. Cuddy wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and pushed up against his hips. House slid into her without hesitation and Cuddy laid her head back and gasped. He was trying to resist his urges and take his time, but Cuddy was crazy. She leaned up and kissed him, pushing her legs against his hips and coaxing him to give in. She arched her back, tilting her hips back and feeling him deep inside her. She couldn't believe how all her fear and panic had transformed into this intense passion for him. House felt her and put his hands in her hair, staring into her eyes. His thrusts followed her lead and he was moving faster and harder. He took in her beautiful face, streaked with old tears, and smiling as she felt him pushing against her. She was so gorgeous and felt so good and he was so turned on. He closed his eyes and tried to think about monster trucks and journal articles, to distract himself for how hot he was for her.

Then he felt her body tense. She was almost hanging off of him, her arms and legs around him and her hips pushing up to meet his. He opened his eyes and saw her mouth open and gasp for breath as she shuddered around him. He wrapped one arm around her back, holding her closer to him, and he came with a suddenness that shocked his body and his brain. He almost felt like he lost consciousness. He felt the warmth of her skin against his, the wet heat of her around him. He smelled her hair, her skin. He tasted her mouth. He was nothing but Cuddy for a few perfect, brief moments.

They fell against the bed in a twitching, heaving pile, limbs intertwined, breaths mingling, moans and sighs blending into this crazy song. They slowly recovered, holding each other close and kissing randomly around each other's faces and bodies. Their breathing slowed. This passionate release, after this crazy day, was causing them both to quickly be seduced toward sleep.

"I'm glad you're not dead," she sighed into his stubble. House smiled.

"I love you, Cuddy," House whispered sleepily in her ear.

"Shut the hell up," she replied.


End file.
